The Blight of Muirwood
Page 137

 Jeff Wheeler

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There was a pain in Lia’s heart at the mention of him. “I did not see it happen,” she said.
“But you heard it.” He sighed deeply. “I did not think anything could kill that man. I remember the first time I saw him. It made an impression, I tell you.”
“The Aldermaston in Pry-Ree called the creature a Fear Liath. Colvin called it a grey-rank.”
Seth hissed at the word. “Ssssttt. A grey-rank. Of course. Worse than a black bear. Fast too, so I have heard. I was surprised to learn he had died. But a grey-rank could do it.”
Lia turned to look at him. “I also remember the first time I saw Martin. In the kitchen.”
He smirked. “No, you do not remember the first time, Lia. You were just a baby. But I remember that night.”
Something chilled inside of her. “What do you remember about it?”
“I remember it because Martin cried. Never saw that old buzzard cry before. It was not long after the fall of Pry-Ree. That was sixteen years ago.”
“But I am only fifteen,” Lia said, confused.
He looked at her. “Really? I remember it very well. But maybe I am wrong. It was a long time ago.”
“Why did Martin cry when he saw me?”
Seth looked back out at the lake. “What do you know about him?”
Lia thought for a moment. “He is Pry-rian obviously. A hunter. He was working for the Aldermaston for years before I was abandoned here. Pasqua told me that. He had been in Muirwood for…I do not know…say four or five years before that?”
“I remember when he came,” he said softly. “He was the captain of the Prince’s guard. The Pry-rian ruler’s guard. They rode down from Bridgestow to Comoros but they stopped at Muirwood with their retinue. All of the guardsmen had the same uniform. Leather girdle and bracers, like you wear. A gladius instead of a long sword. They all had bows as well. Dangerous men, all of them. The Prince and the Aldermaston had several long conversations together. They went into the Abbey too, for the Prince was a maston.”
Lia’s heart surged with fire. The flood from the Medium was choking her breath. Pieces of the story began to fit together in her mind, interlocking like sculpted stones. “I did not know he was part of the Prince’s guard.” The Aldermaston had already told her the story of the Pry-rian prince who had come to Muirwood on the way to Comoros.
“Yes. But it was odd that he left Martin behind. I mean, as captain of the guard, why stay behind at Muirwood when your master is treating with his enemies in Comoros? I do not know why it happened. Only that Martin became the Abbey’s hunter and sought an apprentice.” His look darkened. “A position which I felt should have been mine.”
“But you were the Aldermaston’s page instead? You delivered his messages…”
“And carried his laundry to the lavenders, and fetched this and fetched that.” His voice was thick with resentment. “How I hated it! Always being told where to go and what to do. But Martin was free to roam the Bearden Muir. He would be gone for days at a time and I could not wait until he returned. When Jon was named as the apprentice, I was sick with envy. It was the Aldermaston’s choice of course, and he knew how much I wanted it. But he would not give it to me. But still, I took every advantage I could to befriend Martin. He…he was like a father to me. He taught me little skills and tricks. Not as much as he taught Jon. After he was chosen, I scorned him though we used to be friends. When we were younger, I would thrash him because I was bigger and stronger.” His eyes focused on nothing at all, lost in the memories and the feelings. “But when he turned thirteen, I could not hurt him anymore. He grew strong and quick with all the things Martin taught him. The fights we used to have ended badly for me. My best weapons were words. How I would spit them at him! But he learned to keep tight rein on his feelings. That was something I could never do.”
Lia listened with enormous interest. “I never knew you two were rivals.”
He shook his head. “He never told Martin about what I did to him. He was quiet, that one. Always kept things inside. He adored Ailsa Cook, but he never told her. She was my age, but he was daft over her. Do you remember her working in the kitchen when you were little? She was taught by Pasqua and helped tend you and Sowe. She was always good with babies.” He sighed. “I should have been as wise as Jon. Ailsa was a good girl. She was a friend to everyone. But I loved one of the learners. My one advantage of being the page was delivering messages to the cloisters. I was teased, of course. Makes my ears burn to remember some of the things they said to me. But there was one who I would have done anything for. She and her friends sighed about Jon. Every month he seemed to sprout more and more. But he was so quiet. He would say nothing to any of the girls. I had always been a good talker. If I were the hunter, if I were the one who wore a gladius and leathers and roamed where I chose, things would be better. I believed that. But I was wrong. I was so hateful, so angry with the Aldermaston for not choosing me. I blamed him for my own failings. Every snub was his fault. Every mocking look by the girl I craved was because of him.” He sighed. “I will tell you the rest. I already confessed to the Aldermaston. When he asked me to be his hunter now, all these years later…well, you can imagine I hardly feel worthy of the privilege. But I need to have it out. I have been carrying it so long.”